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Page 390
duel with Henry, even though it seemed to hold the promise of the quick elimination of one opponent, Fulk found himself behind his intended victim. His joy at seeing Ian's unprotected back did not last long. Ian had leaned forward, swung both legs back and prodded his stallion's haunches. Promptly the beast lashed out with both hind legs. It did not catch Fulk's mount in the head, as Ian hoped, but one shod hoof did make contact with the other stallion's shoulder. In response, the animal reared and Fulk's hopeful stroke went awry.
Shouting curses, Fulk wrestled his horse down, prepared to strike again at a man he thought unable to turn in time to defend himself. But the moment Ian's destrier had his back hooves on the ground, Ian made him rear upright and turn on his hind legs. Fulk's sword met a ready shield, and the horse, coming down, struck Cornhill's mount on the left hindquarter. Startled, Henry's destrier plunged away to the right, again leaving Ian momentarily with only one opponent.
Not for long, Ian thought bitterly, as his eye caught half a dozen knights riding through the press of fighting men. They looked neither right nor left for opponents. They rode straight as an arrow's flight toward Ian and his two challengers. John's hired killers, Ian thought. Viciously he spurred forward. This was no time for the niceties of tourney fighting; this was war, where the only good enemy was a dead one. Invigorated by rage, he launched a fusillade of blows at Fulk while he spurred his horse unmercifully. Too busy guarding himself to prod his destrier forward and out of the way, Fulk came suddenly to the end Ian had planned for him. The gray horse struck Cantelu's mount just in the barrel of the belly. Instinctively, the stallion curved its neck to bite and tried to rear. Ian thrust hard. Fulk twisted to present his shield, leaned backand the horse went over.
Never pausing a moment in his spurring, Ian charged toward the oncoming knights. Suddenly, from behind

 
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